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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of creative nonfiction short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

5440+ Creative nonfiction Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. The creative nonfiction stories on this page deliver exactly what it says on the tin: true stories told in weird and wonderful ways.

Creative nonfiction Short Stories – Page 362 of 363

Loving Without Confession

Submitted to Contest #28

This story, like many other love stories, starts with a boy and a few words. Now, I'm not one known for falling in love very easily. Frankly, out of the fourteen years of my life, I've only fallen in love once. It's crazy, right? Well, I do it with good reason, and I'm about to tell you why. The boy I fell in love with actually just happened in late October 2019. I had gotten over my first love only a month before that, which was an accomplishment because I had liked him for over a year and a half, though he had no interest in me whatsoever....

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Misleading Mr. Right.

Submitted to Contest #28

Luke was special. He was special in the way a good book and comfy pajamas are special because that's how he made me feel. Comfortable. He was also incredibly good looking. A light-skinned Latino with sky blue eyes and thick black hair. He had the kind of smile that thawed my cheeks quicker and was sweeter than Hot Cocoa dolloped with Reddi Whip and sprinkled with cinnamon. His touch was soft and gentle. The touch of youth in the prime of existence. His hands were smooth as silk. His well-manicured nails rested on fingers that traced the line...

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Survival of Hurricane Florence

Submitted to Contest #28

This is my personal story of my family's ordeal of Hurricane Florence and how humanity can restore your faith when you have nothing.I wrote about this to a survivors page and a lady said she balled her eyes out. A local business owner had shared what I wrote to her business page. An out-pour of appreciation for my words. I had this idea being a small-town girl from KY; I would never find compassion as I did in my 6,000 people populated small town. Where everyone knows everyone. Moved to Havelock North Carolina on the east coast. The pop...

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Secret Things

Submitted to Contest #28

If I could have loved anyone, it would have been him. And deep down, in the most secret part of my soul, I know I did. He was the pastor’s son, he grew up in church, in class beside me. I spent ten days at his parent’s house one time, and he invited me to play video games in his room every afternoon.  I have Asperger’s, have since I was very young, although it took me many years to come to that realization. I am also asexual, meaning my romantic inclinations are minimal at best. Suffice to say, I was a very strange child, who didn’t rea...

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Questioning what it means to fly

Submitted to Contest #28

There are always the consequences for those who fly out of their cages.If there was one thing that birds have, its wings. Duh. Wings that come in all shapes, colors, textures: all differences but all have the common reason of…. Flying. UGH. There I go again, being super cheesy using dope pickup lines-that seem effective- like those you see in depressing young adult-teens- novels. Welp. At least I DID its purpose: to give you the fucking feels. The feels that wrap around you like a homemade quilted blanket. And-still- give you the i...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Submitted to Contest #28

I married a dumbass. Unfortunately, I’d become acutely aware of how much of a dumbass he was several months before the nuptials, but please don’t judge me too harshly. The ball was rolling down hill and there didn’t seem to be any way to stop the wedding. Relatives from my side had already booked their transcontinental flights and my fiancé’s father was a public figure, so scores of people whose social status eclipsed ours by thousands of miles made the final cut of our invite list. My mother was having the time of her life planning the cere...

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My Asymptote

Submitted to Contest #28

Love stories never really end well. Yes, there are the perfect romance novels, but tell me, when have you ever seen love like that? Not that I don’t want it because I certainly do. Its just that our hearts are destined to betray us. The fault lies in what our heart lets us love, my heart for example loves the good guy. Of course, this doesn’t sound like it would be a problem, except for the fact that the good guys I inevitably fall for, are entirely unattainable. I guess I should start from the beginning. So, picture this, a sweet little fre...

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Puppy Love

Submitted to Contest #28

Not too many people ever think seeing a stray animal outside of a parking lot will be the moment to usually change your life, nor your outlook on it. Normally, one would simply look for any proof of ownership. Maybe the stray could be taken home until a suitable owner is found.                Such a situation happened to me one year, on a warm summer day in 2011. I was simply a senior in high school, spending his evening at work, contemplating how to tackle the homewo...

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A Prayer Beyond the Grave

Submitted to Contest #28

  1,295 words                                                                                  A Prayer Beyond the Grave  ...

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The Color of Love

Submitted to Contest #28

The Color of LoveThe day I left my parent’s home to strike out on my own, I never expected a life-changing encounter like the one that happened to me. I had been raised to love everyone, and to me, that meant regardless of race, color, or creed. Not to infer that I set out to find a man that my parents would so vehemently oppose, it just happened that way.Firstly, everything about my short time in the military was a struggle. I had to fight to get into the Army due to my gender and size, I fought every day to overcome issues like simply marc...

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A Secret Fear

Submitted to Contest #28

My late brother Chris and I were having a conversation one of those many times at the end of the day when he needed a toke. I would light up the joint, hold it to his lips, then pull it away after he inhaled. He would hold onto the smoke for a minute, exhale, then take a second, then a third. I’d puff on it sometimes, but home was twenty to forty minutes away by car. He lived up in the Oakland Hills, and I had to get back to San Francisco. Nowadays, you can count on an hour or more in travel time anytime you have to ...

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The Most Beautiful Person

Submitted to Contest #28

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever met," they said. Not in unison, but in different timelines. The first person said this to me in high school. The teacher had arranged a seating plan for the whole class and we ended up seating next to each other. He sat on my left, and him being on my left put me in an advantage of drawing art over his notebooks and papers because I was a lefty and our armchairs accommodated right-handed people. The first one was a genius in class, a Salutatorian. I had to rely on him to pass a certain subject duri...

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The On-Again, Off-Agains

Submitted to Contest #28

We are wandering through a Hobby Lobby at six o’clock. Aisle after aisle stretches in every direction, creating a disfigured checkerboard of craft supplies. Christian music glides through the surround speakers as if you could walk through the doors in the back and straight up to the pearly gates. On one rack, one can find every print of duct tape imaginable. On another, there are picture frames of all shapes and sizes for any artwork or photo one might wish to frame. A long rectangular aisle sports a vast array of stickers—textured and not. ...

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Rubik's Cube

Submitted to Contest #28

He was a Rubik's cube.I realized that when he told me those five dreadful words that I'd never forget: "It's not you, it's me."I could only solve one part of a Rubik's cube. Solving one color was enough. The rest was a waste of time. And he reminded me of it. What I saw in him was basically just one side, one color. I never knew he had other colors that he hid really well or colors that I failed to see.It's so ironic that we humans have eyes to see, but sometimes end up not using them in situations like these. We become blinded by pleasure, ...

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We Are Crew, Not Passengers

Submitted to Contest #28

“Ok, now Logan. What is the first moment we remember with Logan?” I leaned into the table, my elbows digging into the polished, glossy wood. The giggles coming from around me were punctuated with glances over at a short boy with light skin and shaved hair that sat at the opposite end of the table from myself, pursing his lips at the attention as he had done for years.  There were ten of us, all seated around the table on benches, in a cabin nestled in the middle of Jawbone Flats, Opal Creek Forest. It was the last field trip for us as a...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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